Gold Star
by blueashke
Summary: Quinn can't handle loving Rachel anymore in secret. A happy fluff fic for my dear friend Whitney. Enjoy!


*So this is for Whitney, who asked me very nicely to try my hand at writing a Faberry fic. I don't ship it as canon, but it's a fun fanon ship to work with. I was specifically requested to go with little to no smut, so this one isn't like Pop Rocks or Trying New Things, just FYI. Enjoy!*

**Oh, yes, so this is a semi-future fic, with Brittana together and out, but with there still being backlash throughout the school**

At the end of the day, Quinn knew what she needed to do. She just couldn't handle this any longer, not any of it. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and frankly, her hormones were driving her up the wall. She approached Santana. "So I need to talk to you about something. Can I come over tonight? I mean, without Brittany there. I love her and everything but I just need to talk to you."

"Uh, sure," the brunette responded. She sent her girlfriend a quick text. Now that they were out and together, they actually spent less time in the halls hand in hand, because it was still more likely to result in a double slushie incident than not. Ten seconds later a response came in. "Okay, she's coming over after you leave, let's go."

Once they arrived at Santana's home, Quinn found herself at loose ends. She knew what she wanted to say; heck, she knew that her friend wouldn't judge her, but she honestly was afraid that her confession wouldn't be taken seriously. Once they'd settled on the couch in the living room, she took a deep breath. "So I know you and Brittany are out and happy and I'm glad for you but would you believe you aren't the only girls who like girls in Glee club?" It all came out in that one breath. There. She'd said it. Now she waited for the laughter, the accusation, the denial.

"Finally ready to tell Rachel how you feel, are you?" A grin had broken over the Latina's face. "Oh don't look so surprised Quinn, we've been watching you since you came up with that ridiculous excuse to get into Glee with her. And for the record, I think she feels the same way. But you've seen how she wants romance. Do it right, and you'll have her in a hot minute."

Of all the responses the blonde had expected, this was by far and away the last thing on her list. Okay, so Santana getting the wrong idea and kissing her or something would be the last thing on the list of expected, but this was darn close. The weight being lifted from her shoulders felt amazing, until the realization that she'd have to be 'the boy' in this situation crashed down on her. "Why do I have to be the romantic one? Can't she woo me? I like being wooed."

"Please! I was there when you taught your Celibacy Club rules. I know you're the dominant one in relationships, especially where the physical goes. Besides, you're obviously ready to go there, otherwise you wouldn't have come to me. Either that, or you want sex tips, but first you need to get the girl, then we can talk about GETTING the girl. Now, ideas?" The next two hours flew by as they began to scheme. Given that Santana had never shown any aptitude for romanticizing, Quinn was actually shocked to discover that most of the odd, yet adorable, quirks to Brittany's wardrobe had been presents from her girlfriend. It explained quite a lot, and showed her just how deeply they cared for one another. Finally though, they came up with something they thought would work.

A gold star hanging on Rachel Berry's locker wasn't the most unusual thing to happen at McKinley that day. Granted, they usually were on the inside of her locker, with frequent derogatory names being posted on the outside, but still, the fact that it opened into a note was more surprising than the simple fact of it being there. ("Santana, one time you really need to explain to me how you know origami well enough to do this; it's taking me an hour to fold the thing!" "Simple, Q. It's called 'how to help Brittany cheat and pass her finals'. Duh.") Even though Quinn didn't witness Rachel opening it, she had it from Santana who had it from Kurt that she'd bounced a little upon reading it. She mouthed the words to herself as she remembered what she'd chosen for her first foray into a new kind of courtship. 'Rachel, I know you don't know who is writing this, but please believe me when I say that Finn can't hope to care for you as much as I always have. Be at Breadstix at 7. The reservation is in your name, I'll find you. I promise.'

According to Kurt, it was the 'I promise' that had done it. Rachel had hemmed and hawwed at him as she talked about the note, but since Kurt knew very well what was going on ("Are you sure we can trust him?" "Quinn, it's KURT! When has he ever been anything less than supportive of love?"), he was able to steer her in the correct direction. He also made sure she didn't go there expecting Finn to actually be there. A simple mention of his dad and Finn's planned outing to a basketball game was enough to quash that theory. Then it was merely a matter of getting through the day.

Quinn wasn't sure how she'd survived sitting in the same room with Rachel as she fluttered around during Glee. For once, the smaller girl seemed to not be telling everyone everything she thought of; the blonde suspected it was because she couldn't figure out who had sent the note, but assumed it was someone in the club. But she couldn't hold still, even more than usual. She flubbed choreography, actually forgot her music in her locker, and even forgot to complain when Mr. Schuester suggested that Quinn herself would be more suited to a solo than she. Quinn had been ready to back up the vote of confidence with a snide remark, but with Rachel failing to deliver her opening salvo, she shut her mouth and waited.

She was late. After everything she'd put herself through in the last 24 hours, Quinn still couldn't believe that she was late to meet Rachel. It was 7:15 and she was still a good ten minutes away. Tapping her bluetooth, she said, "Call Satan," and tried not to chuckle to herself that she'd never fixed that designation in her phone. "Santana? Quinn. Listen, my hair took forever and then I forgot the flowers and I'm running late and can you please, please call Breadstix and find a way to get her to wait? I don't know, just have them tell her that her date is on the way or something! Yes, obviously don't let on who it is. What? No, I went with the blue one. Because I like it and I was wearing blue the first time I saw her and... very funny Santana. I seem to remember you waxing philosophical about what Brittany was wearing... that's better. Okay, getting closer now, just take care of it all right? Thanks!"

At last, she arrived in front of the restaurant. She reached across to the passenger seat where a full dozen red roses rested, wrapped in clear cellophane embellished with gold stars. She'd planned on something less intense than red roses, but the gold stars seemed to indicate that fate was laying a hand on her choices. Flowers in hand, she locked the car door and headed inside. Once at the podium, she spoke softly to the hostess. "Can you please deliver these to that girl over there?" she said, pointing to where she could see Rachel sitting, facing away from the door, as planned. "Don't tell her who they're from, I'll be there in a moment."

The hostess winked conspiratorially. "Not a problem. Santana just called and gave me the message anyway." Quinn was puzzled for a moment, then realized that if Santana came to the restaurant as frequently as it seemed, it only made sense that she'd be in good with the hostess, who also apparently played for the same team. "I'll tell her you're five minutes out?" At a nod, she smiled back and headed over to deliver the roses, which concealed a second gold star.

This time, Quinn made sure she witnessed the card opening. The restaurant's waiting area was screened by fake flowers, so she was able to get much closer than she'd expected, and so got to see the single tear running down the girl's face as she read the much more frank message. 'I've known you since we were kids together, and I was always mean to you. I didn't know how to face what I felt for you any other way. I watched you date so many boys, and every time I saw one of the break your heart, I wanted to be the one to make you smile again. I can't promise I won't ever make you angry, but I can promise you that I will never, ever break your heart like they did. Please, please believe me when I say I'm telling the truth, that this isn't any kind of plot against you Rachel. If you believe, just turn around.'

She felt like a fraud, not being behind Rachel when she turned, but she wanted to get to the brunette's side without her noticing who was coming for her. Rachel turned, saw no one standing behind her, and her head fell. She started to turn back, to get her purse and leave, when she noticed shoes out of the corner of her eyes. Shoes that belonged to a female. More importantly, shoes that belonged to a specific female whose wardrobe she'd long ago memorized. Before she could look up, Quinn reached down and tilted her face up, drawing her into a standing position next to her.

"Please Rachel, believe me. And if you don't believe my notes or my roses, maybe you'll believe this." Before she could think further, Quinn leaned in and pressed her lips to Rachel's. Gold stars meant so much. But right now, all they signified was that the fireworks from kissing Finn long ago were nothing, NOTHING compared to kissing Rachel. When she finally pulled away, she looked deep into chocolate brown eyes. A smile broke out across Rachel's face.

"Now that's what I think of when I see stars."


End file.
